


I have loved the stars too fondly

by xpityx



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Goodbyes, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpityx/pseuds/xpityx
Summary: I just wanted to say goodbye to these two, and this is the only way I know how





	

 

He startles awake, adrenaline jolting him upright in his seat.

 

The angles of the bridge are wholly alien to him for a second, goosebumps rippling across his shoulders, before his console desk and the softly flickering lights of comms slowly resolve themselves into something mundane.

 

He’s not sure how he got here - he feels a little like he missed a step in the dark. He’s heard friends talk about being so drunk that they have no memories of the night before, but such stories had always made him snort softly to himself: these people were obviously not Russian.  He can’t imagine there is enough vodka on the Enterprise to get him that drunk.

 

There is no-one else on the Bridge, which is also incredibly odd. Off the top of his head he can think of eight main Starfleet regulations and sixteen further subsections that explicitly state that there are no circumstances in which the Bridge can be crewed by only one person.

 

Despite the strangeness of the situation though, he feels safe. The stars are endless in the viewscreen: swathes of white blue light that have comforted him since he first stepped into a observatory - the arc of the sky through the telescope enormous to his six year old self. It was the first time he’d realised that there was no end to the universe, that he could spend a lifetime learning the name of every star and there would be still more.

 

It is less that he sees movement and more that there is a change in the air pressure that causes him to turn carefully in his chair. There is now a very elderly Vulcan settled at the Science Officer’s station, to all appearances enjoying the same view that had absorbed Pavel’s attention. He is wearing dark, conservative Vulcan robes, and his grey hair is cleanly cut. Deep lines etch his face, indicative of more mobility of expression than he is used to seeing on Vulcans. This is a person who has laughed often.

 

And he is familiar.

 

“You are dead. The Keptin told us - we were silent for you.”

 

Humour dances at the edges of the Ambassador's eyes as he faces Pavel, “I thank you for your silence.”

 

There’s a short pause before he realises that the Vulcan is not planning on offering any further explanation.

 

“Do you know where we are?” Pavel tries.

 

“Of course, we are on the Bridge of the U.S.S Enterprise NCC-1701-A, a Constitution-class starship.”

 

In hindsight, Pavel knows better than to ask a Vulcan an obvious question - he thinks that is exactly what Commander Spock would have said if he’d presented him with the same query.

 

“Then, do you know _why_ we are here?”

 

“Yes. We are here because I need your help.” The Ambassador seems to consider Pavel before continuing, “What if I told you you were needed elsewhere, and that that need was greater than the need of your crew. Would you come with me?”

 

“Of course.” Pavel responds, even if his Starfleet Oath had not demanded it, his conscience is telling him that it is the right thing to do. Pavel isn’t conceited, he knows the limits of himself and his abilities very well, and has come face to face with the consequences of those limits on more than one occasion, but he also knows that he has skills that not many in Starfleet can claim, and if those skills are needed elsewhere then so be it.

 

“Even if it meant that you could never return here?”

 

Pavel pauses, the question is a grave one, although his first instinct is to say yes: how could he not help?

 

“Is this real, or is this happening inside of my head?”

 

“It is happening inside your head. However, why should it then follow that it is not real?”

 

Pavel wonders if it some trick of the species that Vulcan’s are able to state seemingly nonsensical statements in such a way that would have Starfleet Command nodding seriously in agreement.

 

He looks back at the stars and thinks of his Nana, who turns 92 next month. She had once told him a story of being too poor to buy a red ribbon for her hair when she was a girl, and so he always ties his gift to her with ribbons. His mother had taught him how to curl the edges into Fibonacci spirals with the dull edge of a knife, and he had taught Hikaru to do the same thing for his daughter’s gifts.

 

He doesn’t understand what the Ambassador is asking of him, but he senses that it is important.

 

He speaks it out loud to test his resolve, “I will not come back”

 

“No, you will not come back”

 

Pavel unconsciously lifts his head a little as he gives his decision.

 

“Yes, I will help you.”

 

The Ambassador’s expression is something like sadness, but it quickly resolves into his usual calm. “We must leave now,” the Vulcan adds, standing with surprising ease.

 

Pavel stands, and follows him into the turbolift, and along cool, hushed corridors until they come to the transporter room and place themselves on the pad.

 

“Are you sure?” The Vulcan asks in his deep, steady voice when they are settled, side by side.

 

Pavel turns to look at his strange new companion and nods once.

 

The Ambassador lifts his head slightly and appears to address the empty room:

 

“Two to beam up.”

  
Pavel keeps his eyes resolutely forward on the familiar lines of his ship, his home, until the tell-tale shimmer of the transporter beam blurs his vision, and the stars wheel overhead.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _I have loved the stars too fondly_  
>  _To be fearful of the night_  
>  Sarah Williams
> 
> inspired by the wonderful Feredir's [amazing artwork](http://feredir.tumblr.com/post/112266253009/of-my-friend-i-can-only-say-this-of-all-the)
> 
> and of course, yes, that is a bastardised quote from HP


End file.
